have a way to help you remember. I want you to come to Quantico with us, and our expert, Dr. Hicks, will hypnotize you. He can help you find out what happened to you, help us all find out. We can end this once and for all, Brakey.”
“He didn’t kill anyone!”
Sherlock said, “Mrs. Alcott, someone did, and the fact is Brakey had to have been there, and he has no memory of it. We need to find out, for everyone’s sake. And Brakey can tell us what happened.”
Jonah said, “That’s bull. You can probably get him to say whatever you like.”
Sherlock said to Brakey, “No, that isn’t true. Brakey, it’s not dangerous, and it’s the only way for you to get past this.”
“No!” Mrs. Alcott shook her finger at them. “No hypnotism. I will not allow you to poke around in Brakey’s unconscious mind. I forbid it. Your father would forbid it, Brakey.”
Sherlock said, “Mrs. Alcott, your son is twenty-four years old. He is an adult, he can answer for himself. Unless he helps us, we’ll have no choice but to arrest him. The preponderance of evidence is against him.”
Deliah looked like Sherlock had slapped her. She lowered her voice, pleading now, “Brakey, you don’t want to do this, you don’t have to do this. I can call Eileen, she can help you. They cannot force you to do this, do you understand?”
Brakey looked thoughtful, then straightened, squared his shoulders. “Agent Savich, I didn’t lie. If I killed Deputy Lewis, I don’t remember doing it. I need to know, you’re right about that.” Then he looked at his mother and suddenly he looked like a little boy. “I don’t want to go to jail, Mom, I don’t.”
Jonah Alcott stepped forward. “I think Brakey had some kind of fit, and maybe he killed Deputy Lewis in some kind of fugue state. If that’s what happened, they’re not going to be fair. They’ll have you signing a confession, Brakey, right then and there, and you’ll go to jail for a long time. I agree with Mom. Don’t do this.”
“Your brother’s right,” Mrs. Alcott said. She walked swiftly to her son, took his head between her hands. “Brakey, look at me. You do not want to do this.”
Brakey’s hands came up to rest on her shoulders, strong hands, Savich saw, strong enough to bring down a man, stab him in the heart. “I’ve been so scared, Mom, but more than anything I can’t stand not knowing what happened, not remembering. Now I can know. Mom, they believe I killed Deputy Lewis. You heard them, they could arrest me and convict me anyway, surely you can see that. What if they’re right?
“If I killed a man I should be punished for it, that’s what you believe, it’s what Dad believed. I’m going to find out what really happened.”
Sherlock said, “Mrs. Alcott, Dr. Hicks is an expert. He’ll help us find the truth. Let me say we have reason to believe Brakey may not be responsible for Deputy Kane Lewis’s death. Someone else is. Allow us to prove that. Brakey wants the truth. You should, too.”
“When can we do this?” Brakey asked, his voice thin as a reed.
“Tomorrow morning, Mr. Alcott, we will send someone to drive you to Quantico. We will meet you there.”
Ms. Louisa looked up at her daughter-in-law, nodded toward Savich and Sherlock. “Seems to me these pretty young people think something very strange is at work here. Sounds interesting, doesn’t it? If their shrink wants to dig into Brakey’s brain, let him. Who knows what he’ll find? Maybe a murderer, or maybe a boy who doesn’t know his elbow from his knee.”
SAVICH HOUSE
GEORGETOWN
Friday night
I t was late. Sherlock was asleep, her hand over his heart, her breath warm against his shoulder. Savich kissed her hair, breathed in her scent, and closed his mind down. He fell asleep and into a cold so brutal his bones were going to shatter. Fast as snapping fingers, the cold was gone, and he was standing in a small, circular clearing in the middle of a thick pine-tree forest, the
“He didn’t kill anyone!”
Sherlock said, “Mrs. Alcott, someone did, and the fact is Brakey had to have been there, and he has no memory of it. We need to find out, for everyone’s sake. And Brakey can tell us what happened.”
Jonah said, “That’s bull. You can probably get him to say whatever you like.”
Sherlock said to Brakey, “No, that isn’t true. Brakey, it’s not dangerous, and it’s the only way for you to get past this.”
“No!” Mrs. Alcott shook her finger at them. “No hypnotism. I will not allow you to poke around in Brakey’s unconscious mind. I forbid it. Your father would forbid it, Brakey.”
Sherlock said, “Mrs. Alcott, your son is twenty-four years old. He is an adult, he can answer for himself. Unless he helps us, we’ll have no choice but to arrest him. The preponderance of evidence is against him.”
Deliah looked like Sherlock had slapped her. She lowered her voice, pleading now, “Brakey, you don’t want to do this, you don’t have to do this. I can call Eileen, she can help you. They cannot force you to do this, do you understand?”
Brakey looked thoughtful, then straightened, squared his shoulders. “Agent Savich, I didn’t lie. If I killed Deputy Lewis, I don’t remember doing it. I need to know, you’re right about that.” Then he looked at his mother and suddenly he looked like a little boy. “I don’t want to go to jail, Mom, I don’t.”
Jonah Alcott stepped forward. “I think Brakey had some kind of fit, and maybe he killed Deputy Lewis in some kind of fugue state. If that’s what happened, they’re not going to be fair. They’ll have you signing a confession, Brakey, right then and there, and you’ll go to jail for a long time. I agree with Mom. Don’t do this.”
“Your brother’s right,” Mrs. Alcott said. She walked swiftly to her son, took his head between her hands. “Brakey, look at me. You do not want to do this.”
Brakey’s hands came up to rest on her shoulders, strong hands, Savich saw, strong enough to bring down a man, stab him in the heart. “I’ve been so scared, Mom, but more than anything I can’t stand not knowing what happened, not remembering. Now I can know. Mom, they believe I killed Deputy Lewis. You heard them, they could arrest me and convict me anyway, surely you can see that. What if they’re right?
“If I killed a man I should be punished for it, that’s what you believe, it’s what Dad believed. I’m going to find out what really happened.”
Sherlock said, “Mrs. Alcott, Dr. Hicks is an expert. He’ll help us find the truth. Let me say we have reason to believe Brakey may not be responsible for Deputy Kane Lewis’s death. Someone else is. Allow us to prove that. Brakey wants the truth. You should, too.”
“When can we do this?” Brakey asked, his voice thin as a reed.
“Tomorrow morning, Mr. Alcott, we will send someone to drive you to Quantico. We will meet you there.”
Ms. Louisa looked up at her daughter-in-law, nodded toward Savich and Sherlock. “Seems to me these pretty young people think something very strange is at work here. Sounds interesting, doesn’t it? If their shrink wants to dig into Brakey’s brain, let him. Who knows what he’ll find? Maybe a murderer, or maybe a boy who doesn’t know his elbow from his knee.”
SAVICH HOUSE
GEORGETOWN
Friday night
I t was late. Sherlock was asleep, her hand over his heart, her breath warm against his shoulder. Savich kissed her hair, breathed in her scent, and closed his mind down. He fell asleep and into a cold so brutal his bones were going to shatter. Fast as snapping fingers, the cold was gone, and he was standing in a small, circular clearing in the middle of a thick pine-tree forest, the
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